


Iterations

by spacepint



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, F/M, Kylo Ren is utterly whipped, Masturbation, One-sided Reylo, There are definitely elements of non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:19:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5950696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacepint/pseuds/spacepint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He remembers it differently when he’s alone.</p>
<p>Some things stay the same: her expression as he removes his mask and she sees his face for the first time, the way she studiously avoids eye contact after that, <i>the chair</i>.</p>
<p>The way her breath hitches every time he gets close to her.</p>
<p>Other things change. Her level of dress, for instance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Iterations

**Author's Note:**

> My brain felt that being in a room with a bunch of guys watching the Super Bowl was the perfect environment to write porn, and out tumbled this filth.
> 
> Thanks, brain. Fuck you, too.
> 
> Special thanks go to [MadcapRomantic](http://archiveofourown.org/users/MadcapRomantic) for giving this a quick beta read.
> 
> Also, since I always love hearing about what music inspired/set the mood for other writers, here's what I listened to while working on this:  
> [Metric - Poster of a Girl](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LXvPGMlujEw)  
> [Metric - Torture Me](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9zmOUSX6mw0)  
> [Alina Baraz & Galimatias - Fantasy](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rliCGn4ImR4)  
> 

He remembers it differently when he’s alone.

Some things stay the same: her expression as he removes his mask and she sees his face for the first time, the way she studiously avoids eye contact after that, _the chair_.

The way her breath hitches every time he gets close to her.

Other things change. Her level of dress, for instance. The way she feels about him. The things he does to her. 

When he’s feeling truly masochistic, he pictures the things he does _with_ her, where she’s an enthusiastic participant. It’s a stretch to imagine her enjoying his presence, _wanting_ him, but he’s had years of practice in the art of self-deception. 

After he’s finished and the post-orgasm glow has worn off, he always remembers that she hates him, that she would feel nothing but disdain at his adolescent fantasies where he dares to imagine her desiring him. It leaves him a little bit colder each time, but the temporary high is so addictive that he’s always drawn back to it.  


* * *

  
“I know you’ve seen the map. It’s in there. And now you’ll give it to me,” he says softly, gently brushing the stray hairs from the side of her face, allowing his fingers to graze along the curve of her ear and down her neck.

He pauses at her collarbone, admiring the way the black leather of his glove contrasts against her tanned skin. His gaze flicks up to her face as he slowly moves his hand lower, under the cloth of her top. A light flush colors her cheeks, and she’s _refusing_ to look at him. That simply won’t do.

He probes at her mind again, this time staying on the edges, observing instead of searching. She’s afraid, oh, she’s afraid. But there’s more. It’s faint, but it’s there: arousal. She doesn’t like the way looking at his face makes her feel and _hates_ the way his leather glove on her skin sends prickles of excitement up her spine.

“Don’t be afraid. I feel it, too.” His voice is deeper than usual, and her gaze snaps back to his with a mixture of fear and rage.

“I’m not giving you anything,” she spits.

“We’ll see,” he’s arrogant, smirking now that he knows the attraction isn’t purely one-sided. He plunges into her mind, digging quickly to find the droid and the map piece, and he realizes where she’s hidden the memory, is nearly there -

He’s thrown out of her mind, and feels her inside of his.

“You, you’re afraid… That you will never be as strong as Darth Vader!”

He’s shocked for a moment, then he pushes her out of his thoughts, putting up as many barriers as he can.

She’s force-sensitive, and so strong. How had he not detected it before? A new warmth fills him, his brain quickly jumping from image to image: him training her, her dressed as a Knight of Ren, her standing at his side in front of Snoke. 

Her under him, crying out his name as she comes around his cock. 

He exhales the breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

He crouches down and removes the leather belt from her waist, pushing the flimsy material that crosses her chest out of the way before moving his hands to raise the hem of her tunic.

She gasps when his lips press against her newly-exposed belly, and he can feel her squirm under him. He rubs his thumbs in comforting circular motions where his hands are pressed against her sides, holding her tunic up and out of the way.

“Wha-what are you _doing_?” She stutters.

He raises his head to meet her eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you. If you tell me to stop, I will,” his voice is earnest and desperate, and it must show in his eyes, too, because her expression shifts into something searching, _reaching_. It makes him feel too vulnerable, and his eyes snap shut as he moves his head forward to nuzzle against her navel, his knees hitting the floor. 

“Please-”

He presses delicate kisses up her torso as he pushes her tunic up, pausing to take the glove off of his right hand as soon as the fabric is bunched over the top of her breast wrap. Once his hand is free, he reverently skims her side with his bare fingers, tracing a circle above the waistband of her pants before running the back of his hand back up, his knuckles ghosting over her skin.

“ _Please_ ,” Rey rasps, and he pauses with his hand on her breast band.

“Do you want me to stop?” He stares into her eyes, searching for any indication that she doesn’t want this. She looks vulnerable and anxious, but he doesn’t see fear or sadness in her face.

“No one has ever done this with you before, have they?” He asks, and the faint tremble of her lower lip gives the answer away.

He waits another second, two seconds, three - and then it’s obvious that she’s not going to say anything. He carefully moves her breast wrap out of the way, and is unable to stop the small gasp from leaving his lips once she’s exposed to him.

“ _Oh_ ,” he softly exhales, more like a prayer than an expression of surprise. 

Her breasts are small and round. He gently cups one in his bare palm, and marvels at how perfectly it fits, how pleasing the weight of it is, _like she was made for him_. He feels a protective, possessive anger flood through his body. How could anyone have abandoned her? How could they bear to leave her behind?

She lets out a soft mewling sound when he kisses the underside of her other breast, and he smiles as his tongue darts out to trace upward to her nipple. She arches against his mouth as his lips close over it, and she whimpers when his teeth scrape against the nub. He lavishes attention on each breast, with fingers and lips and teeth, and soon the room is filled with Rey’s breathy little moans.

He trails kisses from her breasts to her hipbone as he pulls her waistband down to her knees. When his fingers trail up to the apex of her thighs, she makes a strangled sound.

“Wait!” Her face is red, and she’s biting her lip. His fingers keep moving as he stares at her face, tracing lines back and forth across her upper thigh.

“Do you want me to stop?” It takes her a moment to respond, but her face reddens further as she shakes her head ‘no’.

He slips a finger between her thighs to run along her slit, and she’s so wet that he feels his dick twitch against the fabric of his trousers. He finds the little nub above her entrance, and rubs gentle circles around it without directly touching it.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

She nods her head ‘yes’, but that isn’t enough. Not nearly enough.

“I need you to say it,” he says as he starts moving his finger further away from its target.

“Yes.” Her voice cracks as the word leaves her mouth, and it’s the single most arousing thing he’s ever felt.

He continues to rub circles with his fingers as he kisses her inner thigh, slowly moving his mouth along until it takes the place of his hand.

When he parts her folds with his fingers to make a long lick, from bottom to top, she arches against the restraints and lets out a broken moan. He presses a few experimental kisses around the bundle of nerves before taking it into his mouth and gently sucking, which earns a gasp and more writhing from the girl.

He gently nudges one of his fingers inside of her, pressing against her walls as he slides shallowly in and out. He’s never been this hard before, and he wants more than anything to touch himself, but this isn’t about his needs.

He flicks the tip of his tongue against her nub while gently nibbling at it, and he feels her clench and relax around his finger as the waves of pleasure take her.

It’s in that moment that all of her defenses are down, and he effortlessly pushes into her mind and retrieves the map piece.

“Thank you,” he murmurs with sincerity, his cheek and nose nuzzling her thigh before he presses a soft kiss to it.

He can feel her self-loathing, expanding so quickly it feels like he’s drowning in it. He stands up and pushes her into blissful unconsciousness, then presses a reverent kiss to her forehead. “I have to leave you now. I’ll be back soon, I promise,” he softly mutters, even though he knows she can’t hear him.

He tells the stormtrooper to guard the door _outside_ of the room, and quickly makes his way to the Supreme Leader.

“I have the map piece. I know where to find Luke Skywalker. And the scavenger, she’s strong in the force. Untrained, but stronger than she knows.”

A gleeful expression transforms Snoke’s face. “Excellent. Bring the girl to me.”

Kylo Ren feels a burst of joy in his chest then. They’ll soon have Skywalker, the girl will be trained, she will be his student, _his_ \--  


* * *

  
He comes with a groan, his seed splattering against his chest and his collarbones.

He feels a wetness on his cheeks, and moves his fingers up to brush against his scar. The texture is all wrong, and it takes him a moment to recognize the liquid.

Tears.


End file.
